The Undying Legacy
by Jinna
Summary: Severus Snape, his personal quest for immortality. Original story that crosses the events of DH, without altering them. Faithfully IC. Now complete!
1. The end of hope

**Author's note**  
The original story is over and complete. Unfortunately English is not my mother tongue, so a long translation work is due. I'll split it in several chapters. Just be patient and don't flame too much. Thanks!

**THE UNDYING LEGACY**

**Prologue**

The great oak on the top of the hill quivered happily in the sunbeams' embrace. Blinking lights beaded its leafy brunches, wandering in the wind's whim. The mildest of June's afternoons, warm and cosy like a caress.  
Some students lazily lingered on the lake shore, books open and eyes lost on the rippling water. Nobody seemed to notice the slender figure lying in the shadow of the stately tree, the right arm stretched under shiny hair, the left intent on grazing the humid and scented earth. All around an amazing bloom of lilies. As amazing as offseason. The white petals shone still despite the breeze, pale reflection of a countenance present, yet distant…

**Annus horribilis**

Hogwarts. The shape of the castle had always had something eerie, a sense of force without compromise, such as to bend the eyes and the arrogance of the boldest. But now the uneasiness had become ill omen. A sinister aura stifled the vital breath of the great building.  
Iris Amberlin looked at the obsidian sky and wrapped herself tightly in her purple cloak. She could smell the rotten breath of the Dementors, but that was not an olfactory perception. Not sense, rather sensation. Chill besieging a heart still warm and vibrant and living. Two thin wrinkles rippled across her forehead. She wondered again why she was there, what she was looking for… She scanned every single stone of the castle, feeling more and more swallowed by its darkness.  
_The end of hope…_  
Then something changed. Her amber eyes darted to the tower that for years had kept the secrets of Dumbledore's white magic. A silver flash of light so brief and sudden to hover between the domains of reality and illusion.  
She lowered her hood over the eyes, turning her steps towards the great entrance gates.  
_No, this is not the end…_

'My dear child! We've been waiting for you quite a while. It's not safe to travel at night. Lately with Dementors and all the rest…' professor Sprout exclaimed, keeping cautiously low the tone of her voice.  
'What do you mean with _all the rest_, Madame Sprout? Death Eaters? Lackeys of the Dark Lord?' her eyes like birds of prey over the headmaster's tower.  
'For Merlin's sake! You don't realize the danger of…'  
'…of granting the things the honour of their own names? On the contrary, professor. That's all but sign of lacking realization, ' a cold, deliberately slow voice wormed its way into the greenhouse.  
'Good evening, _headmaster_,' Iris hissed, stressing with contempt the last word. She stood up to the black abyss of the man's stare, until he decided to break the time stopping spell.  
'We meet again… at last. In all honesty I can't state I'm glad about it. Nevertheless, I understand the fascination Hogwarts can exert on those who have had the honour to…well, _learn_ within its walls.'  
Iris glared at the thin, bitter line those words had sprung from.  
'I'm ready to take up the office _you_ appointed me to, Sir. Starting from tomorrow, if necessary,' she replied without retaliating to the provocation.  
Headmaster Severus Tobias Snape looked so intently at her that she feared to be dragged back into the old game of the legilimens cat and the mouse. She knew far too well the one sided rules of such a game… On a powerful instinct she emptied her mind and shielded her heart.  
_Now try it again, you bastard!_  
For a moment she thought she saw a sardonic smile creeping through the harsh features of the man.  
'So be it,' he dryly replied and the way he had come -black, silent, unreadable- he left.  
Professor Sprout stood open-mouthed, her eyes darting between the flapping headmaster's cloak and Iris' fierce look.  
'Welcome back to Hogwarts, I suppose… Professor Amberlin,' was all she managed to say.


	2. Autoinflicted torture

**Author's note**  
Thanks for reviewing! My mother tongue is Italian and my fiction has already been posted in the Italian section. I'll try to speed up my translation work. Back to the story. There's so much to tell…

That night sleep eluded her like a crumple-horned snorkack. Six years before, when she had left the school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Iris had sworn she wouldn't set foot in there again. Too many memories wriggled in the twist and turns of her mind. Slimy, chaotic… A nest of snakes that snapped at each other with fratricidal fury.  
She had started with the same enthusiasm as any young witch. Her parents, both naturalists, were rather famous in the Magic world. Well-known, brilliant and, what counts most, _Pure-blood_. As an only child, Hogwarts had marked her first, real attempt at socialization. Learning the laws that ruled this new universe turned out to be harder than expected though. Youths' naivety and fickleness, their occasional cruelty disconcerted her. Used to live in the reassuring world of adults, she soon found herself looking for their company also inside the school. Teachers, charmed by such an _unusual_ personality, kept their labs doors open well beyond class times. As for her, Iris found more challenging the disquisitions about the properties of Professor Sprout greenhouse's plants than the sickening House rivalries or the soppy gossip about the last Quidditch hero.  
The Sorting Hat had long wavered, brooding over the apparent contradictions of her mind. After a nerve-racking soliloquy, it had eventually called 'Ravenclaw!', never stopping grumbling out its doubts. Iris was greatly relieved not to be obliged to wear Slytherin's or Gryffindor's uniforms. She despised the slightly dumb boldness of Gryphons as much as the unbridled ambition of Salazar's adepts. In Ravenclaw she could sharpen her mind, concentrating on the ultimate answers nature and magic were keeping for her. That's how it was for seven years. Bright student, blameless -well, almost- conduct. But for that young, newly appointed Potions Master. Her personal auto-inflicted torture.

Her first teaching day welcomed her with the exhausted hug of a sleepless night. Perhaps she had bit off more than one can chew. One week before, when she was told Professor Sprout was looking for an Herbology assistant, her clearness of mind had crumpled like a bewitched house of cards. She had to know. She had to understand. She had to go back to the place where all the answers were possible. Where everything had started and really never ended.  
Her first reaction, while reading the vacancy ad on _The Daily Prophet_, had been one of astonishment. Why on earth Madam Sprout was looking for an assistant four months after the beginning of the classes? Whatever the reason was, her puzzlement had soon given way to the untamable fire that still burnt in her chest. She had sent her CV through howler and in four days' time confirmation of her employment had flown back on the wings of a white owl. Timing had not surprised her. She suspected hers was the only application sent to the school. Nevertheless she was somehow annoyed by the bureaucratic banality of such a course, in times that all were but banal. Not to mention the sign at foot of the convocation... A small, nervous handwriting read: _The Headmaster, Professor Severus Tobias Snape_.

One hand up shook her out of her random thoughts. She observed the second year students and bitterly realized that every sign of enthusiasm had vanished from their faces. Suspicious looks darted all over the greenhouse as though they were expecting some kind of ambush. Sad and creepy, she mused, how fear and sorrow can transfigure a youth feature into that one of an adult…  
'Yes… Blaine, if I'm not wrong.'  
An olive-skinned boy, with big dark shadows under his eyes, nodded curtly.  
'Professor… Madam…'  
'Professor will do, Blaine.'  
'Professor, you said the extract of mandrake is the most powerful antidote against petrification.'  
'Correct, Blaine.'  
'And petrification can be caused by indirectly gazing at a basilisk.'  
'Right.'  
'Is it true a basilisk hid in a secret chamber, right here, in the castle?'  
Several pupils dilated as if darkness had suddenly fallen.  
'True. But it was killed,' professor Amberlin replied trying to reassure the most impressionable ones.  
'Professor,' the boy's voice lowered to a whisper 'Potter killed it, didn't he? HARRY POTTER.'  
Her eyes rushed worriedly to the entrance. She bit her lower lip and silently cursed her momentary weakness._  
Fear is getting pandemic..._  
'Yes, Blaine. Mister Potter,' she said pronouncing clearly the name 'killed the basilisk during his second year at Hogwarts.'  
'It's a good thing, isn't it?'  
'Sure it is.'  
'Then why?' the boy's voice rose in pitch 'Why the _Prophet_ says he's a wanted criminal? I mean, one doesn't get evil all of a sudden, does he?'  
An inner smile fought its way up to Iris' lips. But she restrained herself. Had some Slytherin reported to the Carrows, her career could have well come to an end right before starting. If not her life…  
_Not bad, Blaine. Not bad…_  
'The border between good and evil is often unsettled, Blaine. Our motivations are only known to ourselves… and I wouldn't even be too sure about that. Some actions look inexplicable or _evil_ simply because we lack pieces of information. Anyway, to answer your question,' she sighed 'no, I don't believe one can get evil all of a sudden.'  
A slow, measured applause broke the excited murmuring that had spread over the greenhouse. Dozens of heads turned around abruptly towards the source of the disturbance and immediately withdrew, pressing against professor Amberlin.  
_That_ man had a wicked taste for sensational entrances. Sinister maybe, but memorable. He looked down at the class with unreadable eyes, hands still mocking an applause.  
'I don't believe the propaganda for a fugitive is included in the Herbology programme,' he hissed.  
'Headmaster Snape, I…' but she was cut short.  
'Remarkable speech indeed. Should I decide to set up a chair of rhetoric, I'll keep it into account. Now, professor Amberlin, if you please, your students are eager to be introduced to the fascinating mysteries of…mandrakes?' he added mellifluously and with an elegant twirl of his cloak he disappeared in the courtyard.  
_Son of a…_  
'Now folks, wear your earmuffs and prepare all you need for repotting BUT do not touch mandrakes until I'm back! Got it? I've to…uh, _settle_ a matter. Five minutes, not longer. Blaine, you are in charge.'  
She barely recorded the boy's bewildered look, then rushed out of the greenhouse, her wand tightly clenched in her left hand.


	3. Sir, for you

**Author's note**  
Fixed a few errors in the previous chapters. Let's get on. Hope you enjoy!

She chased the headmaster's shifty shape through the courtyard and then inside the castle, down the narrow spiral staircase leading to the dungeons._  
The bat never changes his__ habits, uh?_  
She could feel the ironic smile curling the man's lips and her anger boiling up with every step. She caught up right in front of his old office, out of breath more for the rage than for the pursuit.  
'What game are you playing?' she shouted at him 'First you employ me in blank, then you ridicule my authority in front of the students. Oh, I was forgetting! What a stupid question… The game hasn't changed, has it? It's always the same.'  
'Game?'  
'Do not deny it!'  
'_Sir_, for you.'  
'Then do not deny it!'  
'I SAID _SIR_, FOR YOU!'  
'For Merlin's sake! Why should I be so formal? We're intimate, aren't we? If not physically… mentally at least. How many _trips_ in my head did you indulge in?'  
'Do I detect a note of regret?'  
In a blur of movement she pointed her wand at the man '_Sectum_...'  
Snape didn't pronounce any shield charm. He just grasped her wrist, deflecting the curse. Then, keeping a painful hold, he stormed over the woman and hissed in her ear 'I don't believe you want to use _these_ curses against me. I really do-not-believe!'  
'_Madam_, for you,' she spat defiantly.  
'I would expect more of your mind, professor Amberlin.'  
'After all you are an expert in such a field,' she sneered.  
'Another intellect sacrificed on the altar of self-pity,' contempt oozing through his words.  
Iris' eyes turned white-hot honey. 'You… You are the cause… How dare you?'  
'So predictable, professor. Or should I still call you _Miss_? Now don't bore me with the tale of the poor martyr. You can make a better use of your grey matter!'  
Iris tried to struggle free but his grasp didn't falter sending a tingling sensation through her arm.  
'A powerful legilimens… A girl's head… vulnerable. Martyr? Am I playing the martyr?' she asked in disbelief.  
'Let me think… Yes. I really think you are.'  
'No! You just had fun. That was a… a hobby to kill boredom. You have…'  
'I have taught you how to protect yourself from your-own-self. From the emotions that cloud purpose and focus. I handed over the very arms you now turn on me. I made you worthy of being called an occlumens!' with an angry jerk he finally released her wrist.  
She looked a him in plain shock. That man wasn't only a sadistic criminal. He was mad.  
'Should I thank you? Is that what you are expecting?' she asked in a very thin voice.  
Severus Snape didn't answer. He pierced her with his cold eyes and suddenly seemed distant.  
'Get back to your work, professor Amberlin.'  
He started to turn but stopped halfway, as struck by a second thought. Two night coloured slits looked obliquely at her.  
'You are a natural occlumens. That core of yours… childhood memories I suppose… I've never managed to break through it. Just be careful not to turn it into your personal Mirror of Erised'.  
She saw him rushing into his office accompanied by the soft rustle of his cloak, his last words still echoing eerily in her mind.


	4. Legilimency raids

**Author's note**  
Thanks again for the support! It's quite difficult to translate my hybrid language (attempt at 'poetic prose') into English. Please, be merciful :-)

'_Look at me!'  
The girl kept on staring at the__ parchment, her cheeks in flames._  
'_I told you to look at me!'  
Her hands __fidgeted frantically under the desk, her head sunk into the shoulders.  
Long thin fingers lifted her chin with unexpected gentleness._  
'_Please...' she begged trembling like a leaf, but she knew she had already lost.__ The predator had caught his prey._  
'_Where did we leave off?'_

NO!

Iris woke with a start and for a long while she didn't recognize the room she was sleeping in. She wiped sweat away from her forehead, tracing tiny circles with her fingertips. She jumped out of bed, murmured '_Aguamenti!_' and the glass on the bedside table was suddenly full to the brim. She slowly sipped while approaching the window. Light vapour had settled on the glass, denying her the view on the outside.  
_Better like this. There's nothing out there but darkness..._  
She sat on the low windowsill and started to trace random shapes on the humid surface.  
The dream was back at last. That wasn't unexpected. In the very moment she had decided to return to Hogwarts, she knew she would expose herself to the backwash. All would resurface for nothing had been removed.  
She rewound Snape's words and fought the urgency to acknowledge the truth in them. Deep down she knew she was jointly responsible. She had given herself up to the predator before he could even scent her, and she couldn't forgive him because she couldn't forgive herself.  
There had always been something deeply dissonant in that man. Torn yet whole. Tormented yet lucid. A mystery waiting to be disclosed. From the very beginning he had been for her like the horizon: unreachable although one tries to chase it, just like true knowledge. A challenge impossible to resist.  
Unfortunately she had overestimated her self-control. Curiosity had given way to attraction and the latter to infatuation. Eventually Snape had become the centre of her soul's every motion and... flesh, blood, breath.  
At the beginning of the sixth year she had performed an Outstanding OWL in Potions along with an outstanding inability to manage her emotions. She kept on hurling her feelings in his face till he couldn't ignore them anymore. The first legilimency raid had caught her in the professor's office, during a detention she was given due to a trivial quarrel with a Slytherin.  
Stooped on a huge heap of papers to be filed, she couldn't divert her attention away from the man who was sitting in front of her, silently adsorbed in reading an old yellowed book.  
After the umpteenth stolen glance, two blazing eyes had hooked hers. She was torn from reality and sucked into herself. A searing trip through memories, feelings, unspeakable fantasies…  
She found herself curled up on the cold stone floor, sobbing and 'naked' like only a broken soul can be. Through the distorted lens of her tears, she saw Snape getting up and turning her back to her, two pale hands leaning heavily on the desk. It didn't last long. He slowly regained control, wearing back again his usual icy mask.  
'Sit down!'  
Iris had obeyed mechanically, fear throbbing in her temples.  
'Look at me!'…  
She didn't fully understand what had triggered that twisted game. Will to punish her for her impudence? Natural inclination towards cruelty? She wondered if he had intentionally hurt her to make her desist from unbecoming feelings. Whatever the motives, Severus Snape had failed. The young Ravenclaw had learnt how to contrast the powerful energy flooding her mind. She had found out how channelling it, leaving to the mercies of the man what was already lost and locking away what was -and had to stay- undisclosed.  
After the stormy exchange they had in the dungeons though, she was not confident anymore of her conclusions. The idea he had tortured her to somehow 'train' her made her sick, but she couldn't deny the logic sustaining it. She was frightened. Had she lowered the shield of hatred, nothing would have been left… but ashes.


	5. Inscrutable deity

**Author's note**  
Story is taking off… Hope you enjoy!

A shiver ran down her spine. She withdrew her fingers from the cold surface and rubbed them vigorously. Her scribbles had drawn an opening through the condensation. She looked outside and stared at the darkness. Silence was almost deafening. For an instant she thought she caught a glimpse of movement inside the courtyard. She focused her eyes but didn't see anything. Then, as sudden as fleeting, a shadow thickened at the light of a torch. It was tall, clad in black, a sharp object clenched in its right hand. She couldn't make out details but Iris could have recognized that bearing even blindfold._  
Severus..._  
She dared with her mind, trying to project her curiosity.  
The figure hesitated and turned slowly his head, lingering on the border between light and shadow. In spite of the darkness surrounding her, Iris _knew_ two black eyes were staring at her.  
She opened to his feelings but all she sensed was just an indistinct, fierce determination. With no further feedback, the man adjusted his cloak and plunged stealthily into the night.

In the following days Iris tried to sort out the enigma she had witnessed. She guessed Snape had had to report to the Dark Lord or even go on mission for him. But something didn't quite fit. That peculiar, all too wary attitude. The air full of electricity... Some colleagues had told her the headmaster had never left the castle since his installation. He spent his days locked in the office that had been Dumbledore's, rarely going out and even more rarely communicating with the teaching staff. Even those two wretched Carrows had complained about it. The only noteworthy administrative measures had been some punishments ... quite out of ordinary, considering the lingering rebellion spreading among the students. Like when he had sent Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom to take a walk with Hagrid in the Forbidden Forest, after they had tried to steal the sword of Godric Gryffindor from his office.  
_Of course, the sword__…_  
Part of her refused to believe Snape was a murderer. Dumbledore's murderer. It was the same, stubborn refusal that had deluded her with the sight of a dazzling _Patronus_ the night she had arrived at Hogwarts. Yet the facts were indisputable. The body of Albus Dumbledore rested in the big white grave on the lakeside, eternal accusing finger against the tower's usurper.  
_Who are you, Severus? Who are you really?_

Lessons continued in an atmosphere of growing tension. In spite of the _Prophet_'s censorship, news seemed to filter through the old stones' cracks. Rumours of tortures, disappearances, murders. Broken lives. Not to mention the 'ethnic cleaning' of the muggle born, that caused in Iris' bowels a pain as fierce as that one inflicted by the _Cruciatus_ curse.  
The passive resistance of the students took gradually the form of an open rebellion. As the quality and the level of the challenge rose, so mounted the brutality of the Carrows and their young lackeys. Professor Amberlin did everything in her power to protect the pupils. She resorted so frequently to the _Confundus_ spell, to end up lost in a sort of half-truth limbo. She sidetracked, spread false traces, she supported with careful determination Longbootom and his DA's comrades. Thanks to her hardened skills as occlumens, she soon became switching centre for all the sensitive data. She stored and passed on, dangerously walking on a sharp razor's edge.  
_Worthy disciple of such a master…_  
Snape. His ambiguity was a big question mark hanging on their destinies. He couldn't be unaware of what was happening both inside and outside the school. That she knew for certain. More than once she had sensed his shifty, elusive shadow. She steadily felt his gaze on and following her. She could almost hear his derisive laughter while watching her rosy lips uttering impudent lies.  
_Damn! What game are you playing? Take sides, coward! Or kill us all…_  
She felt the power of that man overflowing the high tower banks. Yet, following his magic's rise, Snape seemed to detach himself from earth. Inscrutable deity uninterested in men's fate.


	6. Requesting a formal audience

**Author's note:**

Ok folks, this is just the calm before the storm… Just wait ;-)

Lately the _corrective_ methods of the Carrows had touched the bottom of sheer horror. Students forced to practise the _Cruciatus_ curse on other students. Bloodcurdling tortures. Young faces turned into swollen grotesque masks. Some of the leading members of the rebellion had used the Easter break to take cover out of school. Same others had mysteriously vanished. Some more, in growing numbers, had eventually found shelter in the Room of Requirements. Longbottom opened the dancing. He resorted to the Room to escape an impending death sentence. After making sure he was safe and sound, Iris decided not to risk further underground visits. She knew she was spied on. One single rash act and someone could have well got his fingers burnt.

She felt helpless and her discomfort kept on growing day by day. She furrowed her room's floor, unable to carve out an active role for herself. She contemplated the possibility to reveal everything she knew to Minerva McGonagall, to search allies among those professors who had not soiled their hands with foul deeds. But whom trusting? What risk would the students run? And above all, who could make a _real_ difference?  
The answer tormented her with its persuasive yet painful voice for several days. Denying her sleep. Knotting her bowels. Wild insanity pressing inside her like a trapped beast. Eventually, after three sleepless nights, with the bites of tiredness marking her face, she gave up.  
She dragged her feet up to the stone gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office.  
'Password?'  
_Great! That's all I needed…_  
She tried to bypass the petrified monster requesting a formal audience. To no avail, it seemed.  
'Headmaster Snape, let me in! I'm Professor Amberlin.'  
Silence.  
_If I only knew the damned password!_  
'Let me in! Or I blast into oblivion this heaps of stones!'  
Only her voice's echo replied.  
'You asked for it. _Bombarda maxima!_'  
The powerful spell's shock wave broke against an invisible barrier, bouncing off and flinging her to the ground. She shook her head trying to get rid of the creepy buzz filling her ears. She barely put herself back on her legs, her lungs still curled up due to the counterblow.  
'Severus, please. You owe it to me… You owe it to… Dumbledore.'  
To her surprise the stony guard slid aside, revealing an elegant spiral staircase behind. She rushed up the steps, accessing a big circular environment full of amazing enchanted instruments. She wondered whether she had ended inside the works of a watch, with a sweeter, more organic quality to them though. Perhaps she had mistaken the odd contraptions' ticking for that one of her heart.  
Snape was sitting at his bare desk, his eyes focused on a parchment. The wall behind him was entirely covered with portraits. Glorious or vainglorious Hogwarts headmasters dozed inside the frames. With a pang in her heart, Iris recognized the serene countenance of Albus Dumbledore…


	7. Filthy mudblood

**Author's note**

Thanks for the reviews! I'm moved… Really. Please, keep reading. Developments on the way ;-)

'See? Sometimes with a gentle touch you get everything,' the headmaster said without raising his eyes from the minute lines refining the parchment paper.  
Iris went through an endless list of unrepeatable insults. She discarded them all. Until one question was left. Plain and simple. The one and the only that really mattered. 'Where do your loyalties lie, _Severus_?'  
He still didn't bother to look up.  
'Choices being?'  
'I formulate again. Why haven't you stopped us?' she asked, a note of impatience in her voice.  
'You mean your pathetic, self-damaging rebellion? Why denying myself the luxury of such a… diversion?'  
'Damn! Drop the mask. You can't fool me. You have protected us...er, them… the students!'  
At last his disquieting black eyes acknowledged her presence.  
'Then what exactly do you accuse me of?'  
'I… That's the reason you engaged me, isn't it? To do the _clean_ job on your behalf…'  
'Again, what do you accuse me of?' an eyebrow slightly arched as to stress the concept.  
'Tough question. Let me think… Of murdering Dumbledore, maybe?' she snarled.  
A deadly glint crossed the motionless surface of his eyes. Iris gripped her wand till her knuckles turned white.  
'I didn't have any choice,' Snape's reply sounded like a rattle.  
'Is_ that_ your justification?' she screamed out of her lungs 'You _had_ a choice. You've ALWAYS had a choice, coward!'  
The man flinched, an expression of pain and hatred twisting his features. He sprang to his feet and dashed against her. Before she could even react he grasped her forearms shaking her wand off.  
'DO NOT CALL ME COWARD! NEVER!' his eyes ablaze with the fire of madness. 'Fool! We are nothing but destiny's tools…' he hissed with ill-concealed contempt.  
Slowly, like waking out of an excruciating nightmare, he released his hold and turned away, hiding the emotions that had found their way to his face.  
Iris was shocked. When it came to Severus Snape she could cope with everything but this… what was it? Weakness?  
'You know what's happening out there?' she addressed him icily.  
Snape didn't answer, his shoulders as still as marble.  
'They're shedding blood… Men's, women's, children's… They flush them out of the sewers. They exterminate them like rats!' she grabbed him by the arm and made him turn towards her. 'You wanted to sneak into my _Mirror of Erised_, professor? Let's see if you have the nerve!'  
The man's eyes dipped hesitantly into hers…

…_Flames dance ominously. Lewd shouts. Death Eaters surround two young muggles. The fire of fear flare up in her eyes. His quivering hand points a gun at the attackers. 'Shall we burn them alive?' Smoke. 'Nah, let's play a bit.' Acrid smell of death. 'Yeah, let's play a bit with the muggle bitch… Right in front of him. What do you think, Mudblood? Ever tasted a Pure-blood?' Dirty barks. 'I've got a better idea. Imperio!' The eyes of the muggle man get unnaturally glassy. He assaults his mate. Wild lust. Darkness. The woman lies bare and lifeless. Two eyes get rid of the Unforgivable Curse's mist. A gun to the temple. A shot. It echoes endlessly inside the head. Flames. Smoke. Darkness…_  
…_Child's voice. A lullaby. '__Guardian angels are near, so sleep on, with no fear.__'  
A couple of young wizards search through the debris. 'There she is! Little one, don't be afraid! We mean no harm. We're here to help!'  
'__Guardian angels are near, so sleep on, with no fear.__'  
'She survived casting a Disillusionment Charm. So early… I've never seen something like this. She didn't even realize she was using magic.' The world sways back and forth, back and forth.  
'__Guardian angels are near, so sleep on, with no fear.__'  
Sweet woman's voice. 'Hey, little one. Look… Expecto Patronum!' A silver dolphin darts out of the wand's tip. Jumps over the surface of an invisible sea. A thousand sprinklings of light. The lullaby stills. A tapering finger shift the hair plastered with blood and sweat away from the eyes. A hand brush against the cheek. Two arms hug, warm, comfort. The world doesn't sways anymore…_

A powerful shove drove him out of her mind. He clang to the desk trying to keep standing. The mask of Severus Snape was finally shattering. Iris walked slowly towards him, her amber eyes fiercely pierced into his.  
'Do your master's bid. Kill me. I'm a filthy Mudblood too.'


	8. Desperate request

**Author's note**  
Hope you do really enjoy this chapter ;-) Please R&R!

A black, threatening cloud passed across his face. He swooped on like a bird of prey clawing her by her cloak's collar.  
'DO NOT USE THAT WORD!' he shouted shaking her savagely. Then with an imperious jerk he pulled her to his chest and his lips plunged into hers. A greedy fire poured from his skin. A sleeping volcano finding at last an outlet. Iris tried to struggle free, but Snape seized her by the nape keeping her from moving. There was not a shadow of tenderness in that kiss. Only a feral, desperate need. She hit him hard on his chest, on his iron gripping arms but his mouth didn't give up. It pursued hers with renewed, unrestrained desire. Her strokes lost gradually intensity, only her fingernails keeping up the fight, scratching and biting into the fabric of the headmaster's long coat._  
Why __are you doing that to me? Why do you claim now what's always belonged to you? It's already yours, my Lord. Lord of my every breath…_  
Snape broke off her mouth with a painful effort. Mad and panting, he bore his eyes into hers.  
'_Muffliato!'_ he murmured, '_Nebulam congero!'_  
A thick mist wrapped their bodies, any sound erased. He lifted her as she was a delicate feather and gently laid her on some kind of soft surface made invisible by the spell. For an instant Iris feared he would leave, regretting his momentary loss of control. But the reassuring weight of his masculine body soon joined her own, his head resting in the hollow between neck and shoulder. Her hands started to explore his long raven hair, docile silk between her thin fingers.  
If she could choose a moment for dying, _that_ would be the one.  
Snape's lips mapped out a humid route through her perfect oval, the high cheekbones, the long hazel eyelashes. His mouth found soon a wet, unexpected ally. Tears were streaming down his hooked nose, flooding her cheeks. With the apprehension clenching her heart, she cupped her hands round his face, a silent question hovering over her golden eyes' intensity.  
'Look at me… please,' he whispered.  
It was her turn to find answers in someone else's memories…

…_Almond-shaped green eyes light up a girl's face. A feeling too powerful to be contained in one single heart. A man shouts wildly at a raven haired woman. Hands stop ears from hearing. Startling green eyes. Rest, refuge, relief. World turns upside down. Sneers. Hate. 'Leave him alone!_ _What's he ever done to you?'. 'I don't need help from a filthy little Mudbloods like her'. The worst memory. Desperation. Darkness. Death. Tears like acid on the skin. Shaking fingers brush against the Mirror of Erised. Friends enemies. Enemies friends. A new mission. Honey coloured eyes gaze in adoration…_

'No! Don't stop!' Snape snapped, realizing she was trying to withdraw from his mind.

… '_Legilimens!'. Journey inside__ a girl's mind. Dismay. Anger. Fear…_  
'_What's troubling you__, Severus?'_  
'_The Ravenclaw girl. I saw things… in her mind.'_  
'_What really upset you? What you saw in her mind or what you feel in her heart?'_  
'_You underestimate the gravity of the situation, Albus! It is not a simple crush. You have no idea...'_  
'_Indeed__. It's my conviction though, that you have quite a definite one.'_  
'_I cannot…'_  
'_You cannot requite__ her feelings?'_  
'_That__ is NOT the point!'_  
'_I see. An ironic turn of events__ for you, isn't it?'_  
'_I cannot manage__ her.'_  
'_What do you suggest? To expel her from __ your class with her records? Not very professional of you.'_  
'_What must I __do then?'_  
'_I believe you and Miss Amberlin have much to learn from each other.'_  
'_I won't let her…'_  
'_What? Let her… love you?'_  
'_I don__'t want to be indebted to anybody!'_  
'_Should I remind you that you ALREADY are? __Believe me, Severus, soon or later, you'll be more than eager to pay your debts off'…_

'Stop!' Iris implored. 'Enough…'  
'You wanted the truth? Don't back off now,' and he pushed her again into that black abyss.

…_Green eyes start tormenting him again. Hate and love__ battle on the same face. The son he never had. Never his. Contempt and admiration. Evil tide rising. Double-double-crosses. Lies and oaths. An unspeakable vow. 'Avada Kedevra!' Hatred and repulsion. The night of the soul. Desperate Patronus' light…  
Iris at last. Crystal clear source in the desert. His creature. Endless challenge. Life defeating death..._

Reality plunged into that frenzy like a blade into the flesh. She was in the arms of a man who could have never loved her. Incapable of moving on as much as turning back.  
If she could choose a moment for dying, _that_ would be the one. Of a broken heart.  
Snape's bright eyes scanned her face from unfathomable depths. She could feel a desperate request pressing into her mind. A request that man strong and fragile could have never put into words. Yet it was there. Pushing its way inside her.  
'Sev, you are mad!' she said with a broken voice.  
'That's all I can give you… all I MUST give you.'  
She shut her eyes, hurt and touched at the same time. Torn as only HE could make her feel. She felt his pain shuttering her bones. His bravery swelling her heart. His desire burning her skin. She did as she had always done. She yielded to him. A _yes _that she never had to utter.


	9. The last enemy that shall be destroyed

**Author's note**  
Sorry for the late updating. I had quite a rough time lately.  
Aw, here you have it. I felt Snape deserved a woman capable of loving him without reserve, of accepting him the way he is. Light and shadow. On the other side I don't believe he could have loved back any other than Lily. That possibility is just OC and not realistic. I know that kind of love. When it strikes -quite rarely indeed- is once and for ever. Human heart is too limited to bear such a havoc more than once.  
Two more chapters and the story is complete. Enjoy!

His head pressed firmly on her breast, his fingers still entwined with her sleek chestnut locks.  
She stayed there listening to the quiet rhythm of his breathing. Deep, warm fullness.  
_In another life, maybe…_  
Suddenly the man's shoulders went stiff. He raised his head and looked alarmingly at his left forearm.  
The ominous mark had come to life, crushing in its coils the vessels brunching out on his limb.  
Iris followed Snape's eyes, a look of horror depicted on her face. Her heart started to beat the seconds separating her from the inevitable.  
'I must go,' he said, his voice unnaturally cold.  
The woman shook her head in denial. She grabbed his face and forced him to look back.  
'NO! You must not go. No more. Run away! You can hide. If one can manage… that's _you_!'  
The words stuck in her throat.  
Severus rested his forehead on hers, heat reaching out and merging.  
'The boy. I promised I would protect him… I won't break my oath.'  
He cupped her delicate hands between his and kissed their tiny knuckles. His eyes lost their focus for a few seconds, following unspeakable thoughts. Then he rose to his feet and with a flick of his wand he dressed again.  
'Let me come with you then. I can help. Haven't you trained me for… for _this_? I beg you, don't turn me away. Not again…' she implored in tears, her hands seizing the front of his cloak.  
He looked at her indulgently, a veil of sadness softening his harsh features. He had clearly expected her reaction.  
'Forgive me…' he murmured. '_Stupefy_!'  
A red flash hit her square on the chest, swallowing her betrayed stare into darkness.  
'… YOU must live'.  
One tear, the very last, left his body and… his soul.

Iris woke with a start, her breast still in flames for the jinx. She looked around, trying to bring reality back into focus. The misty spell had vanished, letting her eyes free to scan the environment. She saw instruments dancing lazily under the high ceiling. Hundreds of volumes elbowing on the bookcases. A set of portraits opening on the walls like empty orbits. She wondered absently where their eminent tenants had gone… A shiver ran up her spine and for a moment she feared she was still undressed. But she wasn't. Severus had seen to it _too_. An annoying flush crept up on her cheeks while recalling that searing first kiss… and its probable witnesses.  
_Now__, does it really matter?_  
She shrugged. The face was not the only thing she had lost that night. She had lost everything, even before finding it.  
She got up from what had turned out to be an old damask sofa. She wanted to leave that office as soon as possible, discomfort surging within her for having 'profaned' such a sacred place. She didn't manage a single step though. A loud bang shook the castle down to the foundations. Indistinct shouts dispelled the office's rarefied atmosphere. She recalled the black mark on Snape's arm and everything got suddenly clear. The Dark Lord had brought war into Hogwarts.  
She picked up her wand and rushed to the staircase but she never got to know if she actually reached it. An invisible hand grasped her consciousness, carrying it to an indefinite elsewhere, dark and dusty.  
She saw a snake floating in a bubble of sinister light. She felt Severus' urgency as it was hers. The moment foretold by Dumbledore had finally come. She listened to the words hissed in the thick, viscous air.  
'The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly, Severus, because I am not its true master. The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner. You killed Albus Dumbledore. While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot be truly mine.'  
'My Lord!'  
The sentence's ineluctability dropped like a stone in the water. Before she could even react, the sphere of light encased her, trapping head and shoulders.  
'_Kill_.'  
Two sharp fangs pierced the tender flesh of the neck with lucid murderous fury. A death scream tore her throat. The scream of the man she desperately loved. Her own scream. There was no difference anymore.  
'Severus…' she called feebly. Then she sank in the sweet oblivion of nothing.  
_Iris, do not get lost. The boy… You know the truth. Help me…_  
Through the mental link, two startling green eyes met hers. Harry Potter, the Chosen One, was there.  
'Take … it… Take… it…' she gurgled.  
Unconfessable secrets gushed from her mouth and her eyes and her ears, thickening in a long silvery blue trail, neither gas nor liquid. A flask was conjured from thin air and the son of Lily, the woman Severus had loved for nearly all of his life, lifted the precious legacy into it with his wand.  
'Look… at… me…' she whispered. Those green eyes were the last thing Iris saw. The last thing she felt was their sweet comfort.  
Something broke inside. But not entirely. She could still feel the warm presence of Snape sheltered in some corner of her being. She could feel it chain her up to life, while death froze her blood as it passed.  
'Where are you? I can still FEEL you!' she cried madly. 'Where are you? Let me die with you!'  
_Iris, do not get lost…_  
She turned her tears raped eyes. An inexplicable longing pulled them to the desk. The parchment…  
She dragged herself with the mechanical pace of an Inferius. Read those few verses all in one breath. Then she read them again. And again, so that they could find fertile ground inside her where plunging their roots.

_The last enemy that shall be destroyed,  
death,  
chilly extinction.  
Soulless dreams  
have defied__ it,  
torn souls.  
Fool!  
The last ally that shall be summoned,  
life  
warm perpetuation… _


	10. Eternally deeprooted

**Author's note **

Sorry for the short chapter. It's just that I couldn't split the Epilogue ;-)  
Short but intense. So I hope…

That night her physical presence turned ethereal like that one of a ghost. She glided silently among the ravages of death. Deaf to the war's torment as deafened by her own torment. She saw young Potter emerging from a earthly passage hidden in the Whomping Willow's roots and in that very moment she knew Severus needed her. One last time.  
She found his body forsaken in the Shrieking Shack, lonely and neglected till the end. She crouched next to him for an incalculable time, refusing to acknowledge that wax mask as the lump of emotions still throbbing inside her. That lump of emotions that had been… Snape.

Casting a _Mobilicorpus_, she moved him away from the cursed place. She walked by groups of injured. Wounded warriors, outside as much inside. Men, women, youths. All rallying around each other and crying their fallen. Nobody dared utter a word at her solemn gait, her hand squeezing a pale, bloodless one. They simply looked at her with the _respectful_ sympathy brought about by the great leveller.  
Severus' memories lead her to the great oak overlooking the lake. She knew that had been his shy shelter as a boy. It would be his shelter again. For ever.  
'_Diffindo!_'  
Earth cracked open at her feet, shedding its humid fragrance. Snape's corpse dropped slowly into the hollow and gently lay down on the bottom. Then earth closed mercifully upon him, without leaving trace of the digging spell.  
_You wouldn't like memorials and pilgrimages. You'd hate hypocrite rehabilitations… _  
Nevertheless _she_ would leave a mark.  
She drew out from her cloak's hidden pocket the black wand that she had picked up in the Shack besides the wizard's lifeless body. She closed her eyes, still smelling the lingering scent of the man's skin on hers.  
'_Floreumsempra_,' she thought and from the bare ground dozens of shoots sprouted, stretching out like long bent limbs and bursting in a blaze of white, shiny petals. Lilies… Lily… Iris. Delicate flowers eternally deep-rooted in him.


	11. Through your eyes

**Dedicated to my best creative act, Elisa.**

**Epilogue**

'Oi, Blodless Princess!'  
A thin wrinkle cut its way between her eyebrows.  
'Wolfy…' she greeted without deigning to look up at him.  
'Eileen, lemme tell ya… You give me the creeps when you spent your spare time stretching out on your father's bones. Couldn't you cope as we all do? Meaning _us_, poor mortal orphans? You know, a visit to the grave, a bunch of flowers… The normal, _non-freak _stuff!'  
Strange enough, these words didn't trigger the predictable show off of her non verbal hexes skills. It was a fact. Teddy Lupin ranked above the average in Eileen's personal tolerance scale. Their fathers' lives had been tightly bound by an hybrid form of respect and repulsion. As their deaths. They had died in the same night, fighting the same enemy. Opening the same longing hollow in their just/not yet born children's hearts.  
The young Ravenclaw arched quizzically an eyebrow, her deep black eyes finally trained up on the boy.  
'I do not need a _bunch of flowers._'  
Her long, pale fingers skimmed theatrically over the white lilies, her magic touch causing them to bloom.  
Teddy rolled his eyes. 'I wonder… from _whom_ you have inherited this wicked taste for the sensational?'  
An irritating smirk crept up on his face. He lay down beside her, his arm crossed under the nape and a blade of grass twisting cheekily between his lips.  
The girl's gaze got even darker, in striking contrast with her translucent, almost transparent complexion. Her glossy black hair fell to the hips, giving her a wild and unearthly look at the same time.  
Teddy turned to look at her.  
'You know? You are not so bad in spite of the… well, family _precedent_.'  
Eileen didn't retaliate. She just kept on staring.  
'Teddy?'  
'Yeah?'  
'Your hair got phosphorescent.'  
'Blast you and your non verbal spells!' he said, ruffling his hair and trying - to no avail - to turn it back to the ash-blond colour he had opted for in the last months.  
'Come on! End your petty revenge. Now!'  
'Apologies first.'  
'Right, right. _Sorry_! I just wanted to pay you a compliment. You snarky beauty…'  
Her heart skipped a beat. She conjured a coal black wand featuring a finely chiselled handle.  
'_Finite_!' she murmured and Teddy's hair colour lost its eccentric glow.  
'… It's not my fault if you're the child of a bat!'  
'Talking of beastly parents…'  
The boy burst into a barking, infectious laughter. Eileen's lips twitched but didn't yield to the mirth. She let the real smile, the inner one, warm her soul.  
The magic moment didn't last long though. A slender figure with long, golden hair was lazily strolling about the lake shore.  
'Your nose is failing you, Wolfy! Look who's grazing by the lake… Your French lamb.'  
Teddy's back stiffened, a feverish, predatory nuance shading his eyes. He turn guiltily to Eileen, searching for an hint in her countenance.  
'Still there, cub? Go now! Take away your filthy paws from this sacred shelter. Au revoir!'  
Teddy looked at her and smiled sadly. Then he turned his uncertain steps towards the lake.  
The girl stole that smile and buried it deep down, just below the surface of her personal Mirror of Erised. Last of a long, painful series.  
_Oh father, I'd gladly do without__ this masochist inclination towards unrequited love... Well, I suppose it's mum's fault too, isn't it?_  
A forced grin fought its way to her lips. She searched her pocket and drew out a yellowed, battered parchment. She didn't need to read its verses again. They had always been there, engraved in her own blood.

… _The last ally that shall be summoned,  
life  
warm perpetuation._

_Through your eyes I shall see,  
I shall think through your mind,  
through your heart I shall love.  
F__lesh mortal of mine. My immortal legacy._

**Author's note**

That's all folks! I hope I stirred a few emotions in you, who were so patient to read my fiction. Let me know if I managed.  
The _fools _in Snape's verses (ch.9) are obviously those powerful wizards who tried to twist nature in order to defy death. Dumbledore with his _soulless dreams_, the Hallows. Voldemort with his _torn soul_, the Horcruxes.  
I don't know, I figured Snape could be the one to find balance between power and common sense, knowledge and nature. He walked on the edge all his life long, supported by the sheer power of love (unknown to Voldermort, unused by Dumbedore). Who, better than him, could understand a simple, basic truth? We live in the blood, the heart, the memory of those who follow us. That's our spark of immortality. As well as our commitment to responsibility.


End file.
